PJs
by ThnksFrThMmrs87
Summary: Who would have thought that a pair of pajamas could send Flack into such a frenzy


Note From The Author—So though the two stories are completely unrelated, I figured since Stella had to suffer through a sexy visual in 'In My Head' it was only fair that Flack got the same treatment. Enjoy : )

Disclaimer—I don't own the characters of CSI: NY, I think we all know that by now

"It's too God damned early for this shit," Flack muttered to himself, running a hand over a face he hadn't gotten a chance to shave.

The wry smile was evident in Mac's voice when he spoke. "At five in the morning I'm certainly inclined to agree with you. Long night?"

Don shook his head. "Not so much; just didn't expect to get yanked out of bed at five this morning. Either way here we are so…"

"We get to work," Mac finished for him. It wasn't long before they realized that one CSI wouldn't be sufficient on this particular case. "The shifts have been crazy the past few weeks and I didn't want to bring someone else in this early, but it doesn't look like we've got much choice."

"You're call boss man, they're your team."

Mac sighed and pulled out his phone. "I'll give Stella a call." There wasn't any answer and he sighed. "Guess I'll have to call in someone else."

"Don't bother. I've gotten all I'm going to get out of the witnesses. Stella's on the way, I'll just swing by and get her."

"You sure you want to do that this early?" Mac asked with one eyebrow raised.

He shrugged. "Yeah, no problem." Flack could have sworn he heard the older man murmuring something about him taking his life in his hands, but he shrugged it off and headed out.

The knocking on Stella's door was so soft she barely heard it at first. Still, it was insistent, and it pulled her out of a very pleasant dream. On the verge of growling in frustration, she pushed her hair from her eyes and stalked out of her bedroom and to the front of the apartment, throwing the door open. "What?" she barked.

To say that Flack was thrown would be an understatement. But it wasn't the tone or demeanor that had him off-balance; it was the pajamas. He'd always pegged Stella for a flannel girl, maybe long bottoms and a t-shirt. Now he realized that all of his assumptions had been incredibly far off of the all too appealing mark. The teeny tiny shorts and wifebeater she was wearing left very little to the imagination. He found he couldn't help but take in every inch of the view, from tanned slim legs to the tank that fit snugly across her stomach and dipped low at the chest. Then his eyes came back to her face and he saw the somewhat murderous look in her eyes and suddenly knew exactly what Mac had been muttering about. "Sorry Stell, Mac needs you on this case we're working."

"You have got to be kidding me. Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"About three hours after I woke up. I'm sorry Stell but Mac needs you on this one."

She gave a great heaving sigh and turned on her heel. "Fine," she snapped. "Just give me a minute."

Stella walked away and into her bedroom and as his eye was immediately drawn to the gentle sway of her hips as she walked and the way her shorts hugged her backside. Mentally head slapping himself he tried to knock himself out of the daze. "Quit perving on your coworker," he whispered for his own benefit. Trying to deflect his focus, he moved into her kitchen and set coffee brewing.

She smelled it from the bedroom and wandered out slowly. She saw a steaming pot of coffee sitting there and moaned. "If you pour me a cup of that I may just love you forever," she told him.

Her words for some reason brought back the image of her sleep wear and he ruthlessly crushed out a pang of desire that speared into his gut. "Well I wouldn't necessarily go that far, but considering the time of day I thought it was a good idea." He poured her a cup and doctored it the way he knew she liked. "Plus, I'd be lying if I said I couldn't use a cup myself."

"Still I'm grateful." She scrubbed a hand over her face. "It's too early for this."

"Funny, I said exactly the same thing at the crime scene. Come on, we'll stop and grab something to eat on the way to the lab."

Later in the day Flack was sure he was going crazy. He wasn't positive, but he was pretty sure that it was wrong to spend an entire interrogation imagining your coworker wearing next to nothing. It was also probably wrong to do the same while speaking to your superior, cuffing a suspect, and standing there in front of the object of your fantasies waiting for lab results. His one track mind, usually so focused on his cases, seemed to have fixated on Stella. By the end of the day he was so turned around in his own head that he couldn't seem to find his bearings.

Running on adrenaline, coffee, and the bagel he'd had for breakfast Don ended the day at his desk, his foot cricketing like crazy. He felt strung out and for the life of him he couldn't stop thinking of Stella. The image of her sauntering away from him in those tiny little shorts was forever emblazoned in his memory.

"You doing okay Don?"

Stella's voice broke him out of his thoughts. His eyes were surprised when he looked up at her. "Yeah, I'm fine."

She looked pointedly at his leg and he immediately forced it to stop moving. "Have you had anything today other than a bagel and coffee?" she asked.

"Not that I can recall," he told her with a hesitant grin.

"Let's get some dinner; it seems we could both use it. Come on."

Things went relatively well most of the night. Their conversation flowed easily as usual and Flack managed to keep his mind off of what it had been on all day. But he hit a snag when they fell into a companionable silence as they ate. Only moments after they both went quiet tempting images began to bombard him again, and he closed his eyes against the onslaught.

"Don, are you sure you're okay?" she asked again.

The genuine concern in her voice made him want to cringe. If she only knew what was preoccupying his thoughts she would probably slap him. "I'm okay Stell, just tired."

She seemed to accept the explanation and they spent the rest of the meal talking and joking, turning more serious when they discussed the case. Afterwards as they walked back to the car his mind wandered again and she stopped them both in the middle of the street. "Okay that's it. You've been zoning out like that all day long Don. What's on your mind?"

The laugh came off as somewhat nervous and did absolutely nothing to cover up the tension he was feeling. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

Truly concerned, she reached out to settle a hand on his arm. "It's obvious something's bothering you."

"Honestly Stell, just take my word on this one."

"Don, you know if you need something you can tell me," she reassured him.

He nodded. "I know Stell, but let's just say that what's distracting me may be over the line."

Now she was just flat out confused. "Tell me, please."

"God I feel like complete tool," he groaned, running a hand over his hair. "It's just… it's your pajamas."

Stella was totally silent and still for a moment. "My pajamas?"

"I told you it was over the line! But ever since I saw you in those teeny tiny little shorts and tank top this morning I've been going out of my mind!"

"I think teeny tiny's a bit of an exaggeration," she muttered to herself.

He didn't even notice what she'd said, just kept rolling on. "It's driving me completely nuts. I can't seem to focus on anything else."

"Don."

"Don't think I don't know how completely sleazy it is, but I can't seem to help it."

"Don." As cute as it was that he was so nervous he was rambling, she knew she should probably do something to fix the situation.

He just kept on going. "It's just, I never imagined you wearing something like that. Sweats maybe, but that just threw me for a loop."

She filed away the fact that he'd imagined her sleepwear for a later date and finally raised her voice. "Don!"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up for a second." She rose up on her toes and brought her lips to his.

If seeing Stella's sleepwear had been a jolt, kissing her was like an electrical storm. Their mouths melded perfectly together and before either of them knew it they were locked in a powerful embrace as passers by either grinned or gawked. They pulled apart and Flack rested his forehead against hers for a moment. "That was unexpected," he told her.

She laughed. "And probably a long time coming."

"Really now?" he asked, pulling back to look her in the eye, a grin forming.

Stella nodded. "Mm hmm, and maybe if you're good I'll let you see my PJs again."


End file.
